DÉPAYSEMENT | 05
| Fluff | Comedy | Smut | Slight Angst | Nerd!Hoseok | Braces!Hoseok
word count: 5k
❝ An engineering prodigy and your resident college loser, Jung Hoseok coerces you into teaching him the ways of the dating world. ❞
trigger warnings: bullying, mentions of suicide
“I don’t understand why we had to come here first, why couldn’t we all head to the field and meet there?” Jungkook huffs before throwing himself down on your couch.
Jimin only grins at the younger boy before shoving him playfully, “Yah. Your noona wanted you to stop by it’s the least you could do.”
Jungkook glares at him ruefully before turning to Yoongi, “You got roped in too?”
“Would I ever be around you people of my own free will?” Yoongi grumbles, his arms crossed in a pout but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes when he’s met with Taehyung’s smiling face.
“I brought company! I hope she doesn’t mind.” He smiles, offering Namjoon a seat next to him, he’s only partially startled when Yoongi’s foot stretches out, successfully kicking the chair before the younger boy can steal a sit next to Taehyung.
“Trade seats, I’m sitting closer to these rodents than my designated three feet rule allows.” Yoongi mutters but Taehyung’s heart does weird flip flops in his chest.
“So why are we all here?” Namjoon queries.
“You are all here because I’m doing Hoseok’s official unveiling.” You grin excitedly, jogging out of your bedroom long enough to check if everyone’s present. You frown, “Where’s Nayeon?”
At the exact moment Nayeon comes running in, toting several shopping bags before nearly collapsing on the kitchen table, panting and sweaty.
“Sorry! I’m late! But I’m here… I got caught up at the mall.” She grins sheepishly.
You match her smile for all its worth and almost miss the slightly disgruntled expression Jungkook is sporting. You swallow a sigh but not before sending him a stern look and a promise of addressing the issue later. But for now… for now you had other things to deal with.
You shuffle around with your phone before finding the perfect song and set it on the table, next to your Bluetooth speaker.
“Why are we listening to Sixpence?” Yoongi frowns at your theatrics.
“Have you never watched She’s All That?” You scoff at Yoongi’s blank expression, “If you must know peasant I’m paying tribute to the most iconic makeover unveiling in movie history. Now shut up so he can make his entrance.”
It takes but all of one minute to quiet the groaning room with an angry glare but they can’t help it not when you were so… corny.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” you begin theatrically, a grin tugging at your lips, “I’d like to present to you the new, not improved but different—Jung Hoseok.”
A pregnant pause followed your declaration and everyone stared expectantly at your bedroom door, but lo and behold no Hoseok was in sight.
“Hoseok you punk there almost at the,” You tapped your foot expectantly, “…. chorus.”
You finish lamely but in your defense Hoseok had finally made his grand entrance from your room and despite having been in there with him for the better part of the day, his transformation was still shocking to you because who knew that underneath all that he was—
“Blonde.” Taehyung says dumbly.
“Hot.” Nayeon grins.
“A work of goddamn art.” You agree.
Hoseok fidgets under close scrutiny but it doesn’t take away from the overall presentation you had cooked up on a small budget. It wasn’t much and you hadn’t been expecting Hoseok of all people to be able to make a black t shirt and some light wash jeans look like it came off the cover of a goddamn GQ spread but it worked. A lot of it had to do with the fact that you managed to shove his fat head under a dad cap and tweeze those godforsaken eyebrows. He wouldn’t go as far as to let you fill them in but he was at last wearing a moisturizer today.
Baby steps, you reminded yourself.
“Not bad.” Jimin muses before turning to you, “It’s actually really not bad, Jesus Christ what are you a fucking magician?”
You take a grandiose bow before turning to the silent participants in the room, cocking a brow at them and reaping Hoseok’s praise as though it were your own.
“You look completely unrecognizable.” Yoongi says, muttering a curse when Taehyung shoulder bumps him, “It’s a good thing, okay?”
“So you look like this,” Namjoon began slowly, “underneath all that… gross… and you choose to hide it because?”
“You’re all a bunch fucking critics, aren’t you?” Hoseok seethes.
You roll your eyes at him before turning to Jimin, “Are we all set to go?”
“Nayeon’s changing and she’ll be out.” Jungkook says closing her bedroom room, and you raised a brow at that because you hadn’t realized he had followed Nayeon into her room.
You had so many questions.
All of which took a backseat to the current stud sitting next to you so you shrugged and began collecting your purse to leave.
“You’re glaring.” Yoongi notes lightly as he pushes you further down the bench room for himself.
You school your features but not well enough that Yoongi doesn’t pick up on the snarl you barely bite back. It only takes a moment under close scrutiny for you to be turning to take it out on the nearest victim—it just so happened to be Jungkook.
“Close your fucking legs, Jeon do you think you own the entire goddamn bench?” You growl, glancing at his legs that were spread so wide his thigh was tucked firmly against your own.
“What are you even doing in the dug out? Go sit with the rest of the crowd.” He rolls his eyes at your outburst but obliges, turning to talk to Jimin and ignore you.
“Is there a reason you’re so testy?” Yoongi queries, raising both hands when you pin him with a look, “Not that you need one. I’m all for bitching at unsuspecting victims.”
“I’m not bitchi—you know what, never mind.” You scowl and Yoongi scoffs.
“Is it because you’re boyfriends garnering so much unwarranted attention?” Yoongi hums, “Because if you didn’t want that to happen then you shouldn’t have done such a good job. Though even I wasn’t expecting that kind of transformation from him of all people, Jesus.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You snap, arms crossed.
“Is that why you’re mad?” Yoongi sing-songs.
You open your mouth to let out a biting remark but the words get caught in your throat when the sixth girl today in the span of an hour, approaches Hoseok, sat perched in the bed of Jeon’s truck with Taehyung and Namjoon. You had been sitting there too but after the first three girls approached him, one even using you under the guise of friendship when you took like one class with her sophomore year, you had been out quicker than Ellen Degeneres during Pride.
You really should be over there coaching him, because all things considered, he was still a nincompoop when it came to girls – unable to look them in the eye or not stammer, unless of course the girl was you then he’d tell you to fuck right off and stop irritating him.
“I’m not mad,” you say, plastering on a fake smile and grateful for the sunglasses you had donned after his comment because at least he couldn’t see the the spiteful glare you were sporting.
And you ask yourself, not for the first time today why you’re feeling so… weird.
“Okay, I lied, I am mad.” You relent finally, “I’m mad because I did all of that and the brat still has the nerve to feel insecure as though he doesn’t look like the poster boy for orthodontists weekly.”
You said it through barely clenched teeth, praying you did a good enough job of not wearing your feelings on your forehead like an idiot. But if Yoongi noticed he either didn’t say anything or didn’t care enough to mention it. (It was more likely the latter).
“Speaking of which, here comes the cheese grater now.” Yoongi snickers at his own joke and true to his word a very flushed and frazzled Hoseok is making his way over to you.
You frown at his expression before asking the obvious.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay.” He hisses, before glancing down at Jungkook’s thigh which had found its way back to yours.
Why the hell wouldn’t he close his goddamn legs?
“What’s your deal?” You nod and watch as Hoseok exhales warily.
“Is this seat taken? No? Perfect!” He grimaces, shoving Jungkook’s legs closed before squeezing in between the two of you.
Jungkook glares at the older boy for a brief second before continuing his conversation with Jimin.
“I can’t do this.” Hoseok says harshly, pinning you with a scowl. Your reaction is delayed when you get caught up in his eyes, brows slashed down angrily and no longer playing the victim to a horribly overgrown fringe.
He had a really nice fucking forehead.
“D-do what?” You clear your throat, going to sip from your beer.
“This. Talking to them!” He says vehemently, gesturing to a pair of scantily clad girls leaning against the truck, he waves weakly at them when they brandish a grin in his direction. “I’m not a social person and they… are very forward?”
“Forward?” You squint your eyes at him with a frown.
“One of them grazed my dick when they put there hand on my thigh.” He hissed.
“What?” You don’t realize your shouting until your lips already curled and Yoongi is cocking a brow at you. You clear your throat before averting your gaze, “I mean… that’s so rude?”
“Anyway, let me stay here,” he huffs out, “You’re really good at scaring people off.”
“Hey!” You cry out indignantly before narrowing your eyes at him, “No offense my guy but wasn’t that the whole point of this entire thing? Getting you laid? Those girls want you to fuck them. I can tell!”
“Okay that’s great but I’m nervous and I… I know as soon as I open my mouth it’s game over. They’ll ask me to eat their pussy and I’ll start nervously spewing out Overwatch facts.” He groans, “Besides! Aren’t you supposed to be helping me?”
“What the hell have I been doing the past two weeks? Twiddling my thumbs?” You whisper harshly, glancing over your shoulder to see if the boys had heard anything. But they all carry on obliviously save for Jungkook who hasn’t stopped glaring at you since you left the apartment.
“Look I’m just not ready for this yet,” Hoseok sighs, “I don’t think I have the confidence to really… talk to girls yet, much less go on a date or… fuck them. Is it okay if I just hang out with you for today?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation but it’s no use feigning disappointment when a small voice in the back of your head is rejoicing at the prospect of having Hoseok to yourself.
Quit being weird, you chastise yourself.
“I won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do, you know that.” You sigh, “So if you want to sit here and drink cheap beer while listen to Jeon make fart jokes then by all means.”
Hoseok doesn’t say anything but he does visibly relax which is a good sign and for some reason you find yourself grasping at a conversation.
“So ugh,” you clear your throat, “how’s being a TA?”
Hoseok blinks at you as though he’s only just realized your talking to him before shrugging, “It’s fine I guess. I’m surrounded by idiots 24/7 but I at least get paid for it so I can’t complain.”
“And what you’re not surrounded by idiots when you hang out with us?” You snort.
“It’s different though,” Hoseok murmurs, nursing a beer. He squints his eyes thoughtfully, “Believe it or not I actually enjoy your guys’ company.”
“Well shit, I hope so – here I was thinking we were like friends and stuff.” You snort.
“Are we though?” He murmurs thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m not just inexperienced with girls. I’m sure it’s obvious but I don’t exactly draw in a lot of fans what with being you know, me and all.”
“Will you stop doing that?” You asked, suddenly annoyed at his self deprecating tone.
Hoseok jumps, startled by your outburst, “Doing what?”
“Being all like down on yourself and shit. It’s like pathetic,” you grumble defiantly, “You don’t need fans in life or people who’ll kiss your ass—you’re not an idol. Real people need real friends to make fun of them and like talk shit to them and stuff, you know?”
“Why are you always doing that?” He implores and you raise your gaze to his, only his expression isn’t one of defense, only pure curiosity lies in wait.
“The same reason you gave me that whole spiel about not giving up on life and shit.” You say, “Because friends talk shit to you and about you but they don’t kick you when you’re down and it really, really bugs me to hear you say stuff like that about yourself, yeah? Leave that to me.”
Hoseok stares at you for a beat too long, taking in the angry slant of your eyebrows and the way your lips purse in respite.
Hoseok’s cheeks burn red hot, tears pricking at his eyes and despite how they beg to be freed from their confines, to run wet tracks down his cheeks he doesn’t let them. His lips purse in an attempt to choke back a sob and he stares down at the linoleum weakly.
“What are you waiting for? Pick them up.” Someone snickers behind him.
He blinks down at his hands questioningly, because what was the point? The hallway seemed to be cloaked in a silence that screamed at him, despite the many people crowding the space.
His books lay scattered around him, and his chest hurt with an agony he was all too familiar with, the sheer overwhelming pity he felt for himself was almost debilitating. He cleared his throat to cover a sniffle, another weak attempt at biting back tears before he’s moving to collect his belongings.
He’s barely on his feet again before they’re being knocked out of his hands with too much force.
A crowd was forming now, and he closes his eyes to try and block out the whispers, the looks of pity because despite how bad everyone felt no one was willing to help. No one ever helped. It was all the same to them, he was there for their entertainment.
And not for the first time, he wondered why.
Why he kept trying. Why he didn’t end it all when he would lay awake at night with a sadness that brought him to his knees. Why he was deemed so unworthy of kindness by people that barely knew him. Why he pushed through when he knew nothing but bruises that pierced deeper than skin and a crippling sadness that only his shower walls would ever hear.
Why, why, why, why me?
Hoseok is too dazed, too caught up with disgust and the need to shed his skin, to vomit a sickness that knew no cure.
His heart hurt.
“I said stop!”
When he looks up again it’s you, the girl from the locker the other day and you’re… crying.
Your eyes are bloodshot and your chest is heaving. He wants to know why. He wants to tell you you’re too pretty, even blubbering, lips quivering. You’re too pretty to cry, too pretty to be on your knees, but he’s overwhelmed. By everything, by the silent on lookers, by the almost painful embarrassment.
He barely realizes you’re shoving books back into his bag for him, before you swipe at your nose and drag him along by the wrist. He doesn’t have the mind to ask questions until you’re out in the courtyard, it’s the middle of classes so it’s empty, save for a few stray butterflies that linger.
His feet hesitate by the fountain and you stumble by the sudden halt, turning to face him inquisitively.
“Why are you always doing that?” He whispers, jerking his hand back from yours.
“D-doing what?” You stammer.
“That. Back there.” He says, jaw clenching, “Why do you keep helping me? Why do you care?”
“Because I’m human,” you say indignantly, “and so are you – not a dog to be made to sit and roll over why don’t you act like it?”
“You think I haven’t tried?” His lip curls in disgust, “What would you know anyway, you’re just some stupid cheerleader, you’re just like the rest of them.”
“Really? Because I didn’t see the rest of them stepping into help you!”
“I didn’t ask for your help!” He yells back.
“You didn’t have to!” You say over him, and tears are rolling down freely, “I helped you because it hurt to see you like that! Maybe everyone else can look away but I can’t! Tell the principle, tell your parents, fuck tell anyone! But don’t… don’t take that.”
And just like that your lip is quivering again, only he doesn’t get a chance to see the tears fall this time because you’re storming off, leaving him there to stare after you.
Hoseok blinks himself back to consciousness when he catches sight of your fingers snapping a hairsbreadth from his face, trying to garner his attention.
“Don’t look now but more of your admirers are headed over.” You say quietly and Hoseok visibly stiffens.
“What do I do?” He whispers harshly.
You bite your lip in concentration, debating the consequences of your action before finally relenting when they neared the dug out. You were a flurry of motion that Hoseok’s sluggish, intoxicated brain couldn’t keep up with – but suddenly you were dropping yourself into his lap, his legs spreading on instinct, you grip his frozen arms until they wrapped around you begrudgingly.
“What are you doing?” He hisses.
“Getting those girls off your back,” you scoff, but you have to crane your neck back to speak to him and he suddenly realizes just how pretty your throat is—why could he never tell before now?
“Hey Hoseok,” one of the girls begins timidly, trying to catch a glimpse of him from in back of your body.
“Uh…. hey hi,” he clears his throat.
“You just left us over there with your friends.” The shorter girl pouts and you roll your eyes.
“Yeah sorry I—”
“He’s kind of busy.” You say brightly, leaning back until your back was pressed to his chest, Hoseok grunts over the unexpected weight. “Did you need something?”
“Oh I… sunbae… sorry,” the tall brunette clears her throat as though she’s just noticed that your sitting dead center on top of Hoseok. You frown when you recognize her from one of your economics courses, “I didn’t realize you… and he… were—”
“For tonight we are.” You shrug, gesturing towards Namjoon, deciding to throw him a bone, “but that guys free over there, I hear he drives a Range Rover, you should chat him up.”
The brunette smiles brightly, if a little bit nervously at you but grips the shorter girls arm, dragging her along but not before she withers you with a narrowed glare. You cock a brow at her audacity before she’s turning around with a huff.
“Sunbae?” Hoseok queries from behind you, and you barely conceal a shiver when you feel how closely he’s speaking to your ear, his breath smells like beer but when you try to pull back his grip tightens around you.
“Yeah,” you say indignantly, “I know I’m not shit in the science world but I’m in a league of my own in my major.”
“I can see that being true,” he nods, lips turning down, “You’re good at what you do. Just look at how you made me over.”
You try to ignore the fact that his arms are still glued to your waist, hands going to clasp just over your mid section, but it’s hard and he smells so good.
“I had a good base to work with,” you hum, going to sip at your beer and feigning nonchalant.
“Is that a compliment from the ice queen herself?” Hoseok snorts, hooking his chin over your shoulder and your thankful not for the first time that he can’t see your reaction.
“Not a compliment. Just the truth.” You murmur, “Your friends are long gone you know, there’s no need for me to sit here anymore.”
“Mm,” he hums, “so get off then.”
You don’t say anything, just take another sip of your beer, but Hoseok hears your answer loud and clear.
“For someone who’s nervous with girls you sure do seem to feel awfully comfortable with me.” You chastise, watching the field carefully when Nayeon makes an appearances.
“It’s because I know I don’t have a shot,” he shrugs impishly and you know he’s smirking even without looking at him, “It makes it a lot less scary when you have nothing to lose going in.”
“Who says you didn’t have a shot?” You ask, but it’s followed by a startled yelp when a cheer erupts from the bleachers, a bunch of drunk frat guys parading onto the field naked and covered in paint.
“The universe.” He snorts.
“You underestimate yourself.” You note.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He queries, a hesitant hand going to rest on your thigh. He doesn’t know where the burst of confidence came from. Maybe it’s from the beer, maybe it’s from the new clothes, or maybe it’s from the way your stares seem to linger these days—whatever it is you don’t reject his touch either way.
“Exactly what it sounds li—”
“Hey lard ass,” someone calls from above you and you turn your head to glare at Jeon Jungkook, “Nayeon scored the winning point, we’re all heading to the bar are you coming or what?”
“I’m coming, you insufferable little brat.” You hiss.
Jungkook stands there when you don’t move right away, you raise an eyebrow at him.
“What?” You scowl.
“Is that the only seat?” He queries, lip curling, “Is it proper for you to be like that?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“What would your parents say if they saw you sitting like that, huh?” He asks, eyes wide as he gestures to your seat on Hoseok’s lap.
Your face flushes deep before you stand up and glare at him, “Are you really scolding me on propriety? You of all people.”
“Yes and so what?” He says, chest puffing or indignantly. He takes a cautious step back before pointing an accusing finger at you, “And sit with your legs closed!”
He ducks when you go to hit him, sticking his tongue out before he races clear across the field and out of your violent reach.
“One more round!” Jimin shouts, shoving a shot glass in your hand.
You lift your head from the table long enough to flick Jimin off, all he does is grin while you groan and lay your head on Nayeon’s shoulder.
“Rock, paper, scissors over who gets to kill him.” You say to Nayeon.
She points a drunken finger at your face, “we… can’t… kill him ’s illegal.”
“It’s self defense. We have to kill him before he tries to poison us—alcohol poison us!” You shout desperately.
“You guys are all pussies!” Jungkook yells, ever the bravado drunk. Hoseok barely keeps him in his seat, halting him from clambering onto the table top, to make what you were assuming he thought was a profound speech—for the umpteenth time that night.
“Hyung,” Jungkook slurs, clapping a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, “I once finished a twelve pack of beer in one sitting and that was, before the Hoover game, I even broke the QB record at our school that day.”
“Was anyone there to see it?” Namjoon asks, sipping at what had to be the girliest drink you’ve ever seen in your entire life—it was fuschia and he was sipping it through one of those skinny black straws.
“No, it was just me but I swear it happened!” Jungkook yelled vehemently.
“Dude,” Namjoon sighs, “in life, whatever you do, it doesn’t count if your friends aren’t there to witness it.”
“I second that.” Jimin says, raising another shot glass to his lips. It pisses you off how sober he still is when he drank twice as much as you.
“Why aren’t you fucking drunk?” You scowl.
“On the contrary I’m very much fucked,” he says, “I’m what the people call… a functioning alcoholic.”
“Let’s play another game!” Taehyung whines from his spot.
“Let’s fucking not because you’re all a bunch of dirty cheaters!” You hiss, gesturing to the table.
“You’re just saying that because you lost every single time.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, “I even won once.”
“I won a game too.” Taehyung pipes up.
“Me too.” Hoseok shrugs.
“Great,” Yoongi mutters from the inside of the booth, “You’ve each won a game and I’ve lost what feels like a year off my life spending time with you people—we’re all going home winners tonight.”
“I want a recount!” You say.
“There’s no recount in Most Likely.” Jimin points out. “If we find you most likely to do something we point at you, the person with the most fingers pointed at them has to drink.”
“Yes, and every single time you threw out a sentence I had to drink—does it make sense that I would be most likely to do all of the things that were named?” You growl.
“One of them was most likely to win in a cage fight amongst the eight of us, so yes it does make sense.” Yoongi snickers.
“I have a better propositions you limp noodles.” Jungkook says from his spot and all seven of you turn your attention to the drunken boy, “Body shots.”
“There’s two girls and six guys.” Hoseok snorts, “Don’t you think the ratios a bit uneven.”
“Okay shut the fuck up with your math lingo first of all—”
“Ratio isn’t just a math word, dumbass.”
“—second of all two of the six are gay so they don’t count.”
“What makes you think I want to do a body shot off of any of you animals?” Yoongi sneers.
“Because who the fuck wouldn’t want to do a body shot off these smokin’ abs?” Jungkook scoffs.
“I’m in.” You say suddenly, garnering six wide eyed looks.
“Are you serious?” Nayeon giggles, “You queen of ball busting are gonna let one of these morons do a shot off you?”
“It’s all in good fun, right?” You say, catching Hoseok’s eye before turning back to her.
“If you do it then I’ll do it too.” She grins.
“Well I’m out,” Yoongi grunts, “you vagina baring cretins can have at it.”
“Me too.” Taehyung shrugs before sending an apologetic look that you and Nayeon both wave off, “Not my cup of tea.”
“Not your cup of tea or not your cup of genitalia?” Jimin snickers, earning a flush Taehyung. “You all know my answer – I never mind an extra chance to get my lips—”
“Disgusting.” You cut him off.
“As much as I would love to lick any part of anyone’s body right now, I gotta run.” Namjoon sighs, before brandishing a notification on his phone, “Duty calls.”
“Are you gonna be okay to drive?” You frown.
“Dude I’ve been sipping cosmopolitans since we got here, I’m pretty sure I’d pass every sobriety test ever.” He rolls his eyes before waving his goodbye.
“And then there were three.” Jungkook says, clapping his hands together, “That is assuming your game?”
His question was directed at Hoseok who seemed to be staring off into space unknowingly. The older boy clears his throat and meets Jungkook’s challenging stare—it annoys him for some reason, and has him sitting up straighter with a curt nod.
“Great,” Jimin says, breaking the tense atmosphere, “Since there’s three of us and two of them, rock, paper, scissors.”
You watch on in silent amusement as they go through three rounds of the game, each boy eyeing the other with a competitive glare, it isn’t until the third game when Jimin’s eliminated that Hoseok meets your eyes.
You take a long gulp of beer to try and hide the flush burning bright on the apples of your cheeks, only hesitating a little when Nayeon drags you to your feet.
“Where do you want it Jeon?” Jimin asks when he comes back baring a tray, brandishing small ramekin of salt, two shots and lime wedges. He’s standing in front of Nayeon when he’s asks the question.
“I’ll do it.” He says, rising to unsteady feet when he grabs the ramekin from Jimin—
And heads straight to you.
You stare at him wide eyed when he goes to drag a finger through the salt, “What are you doing?”
“My body shot.” He shrugs, before sprinkling the salt all down the front of the v in your t shirt. You can’t even glare at him because you were still trying to catch up with his thought process.
“So go do it over there.” You hiss, letting out a small yelp when he plops a lime in your mouth to shut you up.
“Maybe I want something different.” He says, breath fanning over your face due to his close proximity.
You clench your jaw but frown when a little of the lime juice dribbles into your mouth down your chin. You chance a glance at Hoseok but the older boy looks well engrossed in his preparations, allowing Jimin the honors of setting Nayeon up for him while he rubs a hand over his neck awkwardly.
A finger on your chin has you returning your gaze back to Jungkook who’s looking at you with a glint in his eye you weren’t entirely comfortable with.
Your comfortability takes a backseat when the audacious brat goes to shove his shot glass between your breasts, a small smirk quirking at the sides of his lip.
“Ready?” Jimin calls, before patting a hand on either boys shoulder, “Remember this is race – the partner of the loser has to take a penalty shot. Got it?”
Both of them nod and Jungkook tongues at his cheek cockily, making you roll your eyes. You drag one last look at Nayeon and Hoseok who seem to be in their own little world, deep in conversation.
What the hell were they even talking about anyway?
“On your marks. Get set,” Jimin begins, “Go.”
Jungkook’s hand find purchase on your waist and your attention is drawn back to the boy in front of you, his head dips to press a lascivious if unnecessary kiss to your right breast before his tongue is swiping over the sensitive skin, your tummy dips at the sensations. But then his lips are roaming down your cleavage before his mouth is working on sucking back the shot glass and finally he’s setting it down with less haste than someone in a competition should be allowed. Two wide palms come up to cup your face while his lips find yours in a sour kiss, the lime wedge between your teeth drops when your jaw goes slack and Jungkook is swiping up the juice at the corner of your lips with his tongue.
Time seems to slow with his mouth on you like this and you find yourself kissing him back, forgetting for the briefest moment who he was, who you were and where the hell you were at. All that mattered was the way his belly seemed to clench under your hesitant hands and his mouth worked over yours.
But all too soon it was coming to an end and when you pull back Jugkook is panting and Jimin is grinning at the both of you.
“What an unexpected turn of events,” he snickers, but you don’t have half a mind to insult him. Instead you’re still blinking at Junkook who licks at his lips like he’s trying to preserve the taste of you there.
Jimin rolls his eyes, “Alright love birds, as wonderful as that show was, you lost – so take your shot like a big girl.”
His words bring you back to focus and your gaze shoots back to Hoseok, only his features are schooled in a composed mask and he’s carrying on a conversation with Taehyung as though nothing out of the ordinary just happened. As though you made out with Jeon Jungkook on a regular fucking basis.
Jimin shoves at your shoulder when you don’t respond right away and you stare down at the shot glass for a moment before someone else is grabbing it out of his hand. Your eyes lift to Jungkook and the way the column of his throat works when he throws it back, not even wincing from the burn of tequila.
He sniffs before swiping at his lower lip, “’s my fault we lost anyway.”
Jimin cocks a brow between the two of you, “Jeon Jungkook taking a penalty shot for someone else? This is a first.”
“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes before he gathers his car keys and phone, “I have two a days tomorrow so I gotta be heading out before coach rips me a new one for showing up hung over again.”
He’s already to turning to leave when your hand shoots out to grip his wrist (without out your fucking consent.) Jungkook raises an eyebrow at the limb before you’re letting go, swiping your hands down your jeans nervously.
“I… uhh… you,” you shake your head, “Are you gonna be okay to drive?”
“Are you worried?” He grins.
You scoff at that, “No but it’d be mighty inconvenient to have to plan your funeral during mid terms.”
“I’ll be fine, Princess.” He tsks and for the first time in…. well ever, you find Jeon Jungkook attractive in a way that might just be worthy of contracting a minor STI.
Hoseok watches the entire exchange from his post in the booth, and for some reason a feeling of unease is clawing at his stomach.
He hadn’t anticipated Jungkook doing a body shot off you because well why would he? But the more Hoseok thought about it was more like – why the hell wouldn’t he?
You were gorgeous and you had a body that men would kill for the chance to worship, and it only set you that much further from himself. Paranoia and self doubt find their way back into his brain, where they’ve made a home for themselves, reminding Hoseok to take heed, remember his place, always remember where he stood with you. It was only made worst by the look that Jungkook sends you when he rubs an apologetic hand over your hipbone before bidding you adieu.
The action nags at Hoseok more than should and he finds himself shooting to unsteady feet before his mind has caught up with him. You yelp at the sudden action and catch him before he goes tumbling off the platform the booth is sat a top.
“Alright there, big guy?” You grin, holding him steady, and you pat a patronizing hand over his belly, “Let’s get some food in you and get you home, yeah?”
“I don’t need any fucking food,” he scoffs, annoyed by your sudden caring behavior.
Is that all you saw him as? As someone who needed to be looked after, cared for, handled with kid gloves? Did you not see him as a man, because fuck… fuck if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. When your touches or your glanced would linger he was able to delude himself into thinking that maybe you had wanted him too—when you were at the field and in his lap he thought that maybe… maybe there was something there but—
Leave it to him to read to deep into something that meant nothing to you. In fact, the thought itself angered him, had him flushing with embarrassment.
“I don’t need to fucking go home and especially not with the likes of you.” He sneered, breaking out of your grip irritably.
You call out to him but he’s already made it across the bar, storming off angrily. To his credit he makes it exactly two feet from you before he’s collapsing, the evidence of his low tolerance catching up to him, making his legs wobble unsteadily and the room spin before his eyes.
The last thing he sees is you rushing to his side before everything’s going black and he falls into a deep sleep.
There’s a pounding in his head that just won’t seem to stop, and Hoseok probably could have done without the sour taste on his tongue, every inch of his body is screaming at him to go back to sleep but he’s already penetrated the first barrier and all dredges of slumber leave him, instead nausea and indigestion take its place.
Hoseok rubs at his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to discern his current location, but alas they’re all failed attempts when he realizes the room is pitch black.
He’s just about to get up and investigate when a sliver of light breaks through a crack in the door and your silhouette appears before him.
“Morning sunshine,” you whisper, and he can barely make you out but he can tell that you’ve changed into pajamas and if he squints just enough he can see pink tinged cheeks on a freshly scrubbed face.
“What time is it?” He croaks, annoyed at the revelation that all liquor from earlier has yet to leave his body, courtesy of the woozy feeling in his stomach.
“It’s four am,” you explain, “you weren’t asleep very long but you blacked out at the bar and I told Jimin to just take us here. He’s crashed out on the couch with Taehyung.”
“Oh,” he says before trying to stand, wincing when a wave of vertigo knocks him back on his ass.
“Chill out dude.” You say before diving into the confines of your bed, your body relaxing against the cool duvet.
“I’ll just… I’ll show myself out,” he clears his throat. He hesitates when your grip on his t shirt yanks him back down to your mattress.
“Don’t try and be a martyr tonight, will you?” You sigh, “Just relax.”
How the hell did you expect him to relax when he was laying next to you? Smelling like heaven and looking like sin. Your sleep shorts did little to hide the plump curve of your ass, and your tank top was so low he could make out the beginnings of a hickey—reminding him why he had stormed off in the first place.
Jeon fucking Jungkook.
“What part of relax is lost on you?” You ask, turning on your side to face him, and alternatively giving him a better view of your cleavage. “Never had a co-ed sleepover before?”
“Do I look like I’ve had a co-ed sleepover before?” He snorts.
“Here we go again,” you sigh, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Do you mind telling me why you’re always so down on yourself?”
“You mean other than the obvious?” He scoffs.
“I’m serious I mean, you’re in the top 1% of the country, you’re about to be rich if you think about the fact that you’ll succeed in whatever field you’re about to pursue and now Hoseok, you’re hot.” You say and he tries to ignore the way his cheeks flush at your compliment. “Even when you dressed the way you did before you were still handsome I just don’t see why—”
“Why what? Why I have such a low fucking self esteem?” He snaps, before rising to his elbows to glare at you, “Why are you always pushing this why can’t you ever mind your own business?”
“Because you are my business. We’re friends and—”
“You said we were friends, I never agreed to any of it.” He grits out and he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your features, even in the dim light of your bedroom.
You stare at him for a beat before letting out an annoyed huff and turning on your side, actively blocking him out. Hoseok sighs before carding a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“___.. I… Didn’t mean that I—”
“Of course you did.” You laugh bitterly, “Because no matter how much I think we’re progressing you’re always there to remind me that this is just a debt owed. That every time you spend time with me is purely obligatory with only your end goal in sight.”
“Well why the hell would you want to hang out with me otherwise?” He scowls, “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense. But don’t worry because I heard your message loud and clear: I won’t bother you unless it’s related to getting you laid.”
“____,” he groans, “that’s not what I meant!”
You turn back to face him, angrily, eyebrows slashed down in a frown as you glared at him. Even then you still looked beautiful, like a really pissed of fairy laying next to him with the moonlight draping over your fine features.
“I’m going to sleep.” You say, shutting your eyes.
Hoseok rubs at the back of his neck, wondering how he managed to wind up in this position – with you, always with you. And for someone so smart, he didn’t understand anything these days, you had a special way of efficiently fucking him up, confusing him until he was grasping at strings for reason.
The silence in the room was deafening, the only thing keeping him from slipping out was the way you seemed to be pouting, even with your eyes closed and it was so fucking endearing to him. It had his drunken mind reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear—the move was so intimate and uncalled for even to him, so he wasn’t all that surprised when your eyes shot open at the gentle caress.
Hoseok clears his throat, looking for something, anything to say when his hand is frozen in mid-air.
“My parents,” he blurts out.
“Huh?” You whisper with a frown.
“They’re really ,,, demanding,” he explains and when he starts he can’t seem to stop, “you know how you said they’re assholes? Well they’re worst than that, asshole is too nice a word to describe them. They’re really unfeeling, cold, clinical with everything—including their kids.”
“Oh.” You say.
Because really what could you say?
“Yeah oh,” he agrees, “I don’t mind being an engineer, I like it, I like math and science and I like making robots but even that… it bothers them. There’s no time for recreational things, for fun. It’s all about work to them.”
“You build robots?” You implore.
“I find time for it.” He shrugs, “it relaxes me, a lot like dancing but I don’t really have time for either these days.”
Your hand finds his way to his cheek and he lets you soothe over the skin there, acting as though the alcohol is urging on both of your actions. His hand goes up to catch yours, but he leaves it there.
And you both pretend. For now.
“Will you ever let me watch you dance?” You hum, smoothing one of his sideburns gently, and Hoseok lets his eyes flutter shut, “You’ve piqued my interest and now I just feel like you’re doing it on purpose—leaving me waiting with bated breath.”
He chuckles but it’s short lived and suddenly he staring at your lips. “I’ve been too busy for anything that’s not work or school related. I haven’t found anytime to go the studio.”
“Let me tag along when you go,” you yawn, letting Hoseok’s fingers lace with your own.
“I will.” He replies.
“Promise?” You query, but you’re fighting sleep, your eyes are heavy and begging for you to give in to the temptation of a good eight hours of rest.
You never do hear a reply because you’re already dead asleep in a matter of seconds.
Hoseok stares at your sleeping figure for longer than is necessary, taking in the silent rise and fall of your chest, to the soft skin of your cheeks. He waits a beat before letting his finger catch on your lower lip, to swipe there. So lush and full and bruised red with your natural tint.
How is anyone this pretty when they sleep?
It’s but a moment before your own hand is going up to grip his wrist and he freezes with the realization that you’re doing it to keep it there instead of push him away. A sigh leaves him as he watched the way your lashes are fanned down against your cheeks.
So beautiful it hurts.
“You’re too good for me,” he says, but he knows I falls on deaf ears, “in more ways than one. You always were too good for me, even back then. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
He stares at you longingly, checking to make sure if your breathing is still even, to see if he should date carry on. He makes the decision with a small smile when a soft snore leaves you.
“Back then you felt like an angel—it’s corny, right?” He whispers, his hand going to push the hair back from your face, “but you were the only good thing I had going for me. Even now, none of this feels real. I hope you’ll forgive me when you find out the truth, I won’t try and keep it from you. I hope you understand that I needed to be with you like this, even just once.”
A mumble of words slip past your lips and Hoseok is frozen stiff by the thought that you might have heard his confession, but you don’t say anything in reply only continue to mutter on about a toaster before you shuffled closer to him and shoved your hands up his shirt.
Hoseok cringed when he felt your frozen skin press against his own and he gently tugs them out from underneath his t shirt before he’s warming them with his own, coaxing you back down from the surface and into a deeper state of sleep. He lets you curl into him, even if he knows it’s only for his body heat, he would take whatever he could get.
Obligatory cuddling was still cuddling after all.
a/n: this chapter was really hard to write for me. i know i mentioned being bullied growing up but a lot of the feelings expressed are things that ive dealt with the loneliness/desperation and i hope if any of u feel like that u feel comfortable enough to talk to me about. that’s all ok ❤️